


The Wolves of Winterfell

by Evax3



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Background Relationships, Fanart & Moodboards, Gendrya is established, Jonerys is enemies to lovers, Minor Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling, Minor Theon Greyjoy/Kyra, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Throbb is friends to lovers, football au, pretty sure actually but we will see how it develops, the guys all play in one team
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29984937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evax3/pseuds/Evax3
Summary: The new session has barely started and up in Winterfell things already get way too complicated.Gendry and Arya have a hard time keeping their relationship a secret, especially while living together with not one brother but two and the biggest prattler of the whole damn campus. Theon and Robb are only one beer pong game away from not jumping their girlfriends but each other. And besides struggling with their exams, Dany and Jon have to face the fact that hate and love do sometimes come just hand in hand.———1 fic, 3 ships, 6 different points of views. Read everything alongside each other or just the POVs of the ships you prefer.———Chapter 1: Jon
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 45





	The Wolves of Winterfell

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello, glad you clicked on this story! :)  
> The idea for this is very old, actually every time I write a story that includes more than one of these couples , I think how cool would it be if they all lived together?  
> That's why we have it here now, along with football (because that's one of the few sports I actually enjoy watching and because it creates some more tension between our guys).  
> I hope you enjoy! ❤️

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new session starts and Jon really hopes that everything will turn out for the good. But of course, as always, not everything goes according to plan.

**JON**

“Down - Set - Hut!”

He flinches at the sudden yell, almost spilling his morning coffee as a small pack of eggs crosses the room mid-air, right past Jon's head. It’s no more than a second, but enough for his eyes to widen, awaiting the crash and the ensuing mess. But Theon catches it with an outstretched arm, not even turning around, instead continues to deal with the bacon in the pan in front of him. 

Only when the pack is placed beside him, safely and unharmed, does he look over his shoulder, as expected, his trademark smirk spreading across his mouth. “I swear, this session we’re going to be unstoppable.” 

Jon's just glad he didn't smash them on the ground, yelling, _‘touchdown!’_

Behind him Robb slams the fridge shut and then hops up on the counter, box of orange juice in one hand, no glass. Of course no glass. And so, even if he wanted to, he can't help but roll his eyes. “Seriously? The fucking eggs?”

“Fear is the path to the dark side, young padawan,” Theon replies in the worst Yoda imitation Jon ever had the misfortune to witness. And his mood darkens even more when he sees Robb's gaze, looking at his best friend as if this was the best joke he ever heard. Because it _definitely_ was not.

“I'm just saying, just a few minutes without football.”

“Why would anybody want that?” Robb says, almost offended.

“Just ignore him. It's part of his morning routine to complain about something.” Theon ruffels his curls as he moves over to the table and then sets a pile of food right in front of Jon's nose. “Now shut up Redshirt* and eat your damn breakfast.”

He slaps his hand away but does him the favour and reaches for a stripe of bacon. It's good, he has to give him that much. So he loads up a plate and eats in silence while the other two continue their chit-chat, planning the upcoming season.

It’s nothing new to him, third wheeling like this. He’s been forced to do so, ever since Dacey Mormont decided to steal Robb's mini-truck back in kindergarten and Theon stuck her head in the sandbox for it. By now, it really should stop bothering him.

And Robb’s his brother, half-brother, but they never made a difference there. So it's not like he doesn't have something that Theon will never match, no matter how many times they call each other bro or share their stupid inside-jokes. Still Jon can’t ignore the fact that things became even worse during the last twelve months and in the end, _again,_ it’s all down to football. 

He has no regrets about taking a year off. It was the right decision, necessary. Unlike Theon and Robb, Jon doesn't have a scholarship, so the first year of college was crucial. He had to focus, his grades had to be right, and besides his breakup with Ygritte, there just wasn't time to be on the field every weekend. 

But not this year, he's back now, things have settled down. He's ready… or should be. Though instead of being excited, he feels like a nervous wreck ever since their schedule arrived.

“Hey.” Robb eyes him as Theon gets up to put his plate in the sink. “You’re good?”

Jon swallows and nods. “Sure.”

“Nothing’s changed, you know? You're still part of the team okay?” He should have expected Robb not to back down so quickly.

“I know.” But does he really?

“Okay, just… lemme know if you need something.” His brother pats his shoulder, captain style, and squeezes slightly before he gets on his feet. 

Jon follows him right after, no chance to delay the whole thing any longer. As they both slip into their sneakers, throwing their gym bags over their shoulders, Theon stretches his head, and yells at the stairs. “Waters, come on, hurry up!”

“One second!” Comes the reply from above and now it’s Theon’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Honestly, with this attitude…” He points his thumb behind his back before flicking his Ray Ban’s, setting them on his nose. “I feel quite gloomy about his future.” 

As they leave the house, Mrs. Tyrell stops watering her flowers, giving them all a meaningful look over the fence. It is a stare with narrowed eyes and thin lips, one Jon knows all too well. So with his head low, he takes his steps a bit quicker than usual and slumps down behind the wheel of his truck, shutting the door. 

Theon of course, does none of the same. He struts to the car leisurely, not giving her a glance, carrying his duffel bag with the emblem of the Winterfell Wolves as if it were a trophy. Like this it’s left to Robb, offering her a charming smile before he even raises his hand in greeting. That's probably why she's still trying to matchmake him with her grand-daughter at every chance she gets.

But it's hopeless. In Robb's life there is only one great love and that is football. Whoever stands by his side must share that love and Margaery Tyrell has made it more than clear that she does not. That instead she thinks of them as nothing more but a bunch of testosterone-driven puffed-up deadheads. Unfortunately, her grandmother hasn't quite caught on yet.

“That old witch,” comments Theon as he gets in his seat next to him, “a few days ago she wiped out her stupid rug and afterwards my bike looked like a fucking flokati.”

“Maybe she wouldn't if you just stop parking in front of her driveway,” Robb laughs from the back.

Theon turns around and grins at him. “Not bloody likely.”

Finally the front door opens and closes again and Gendry hurries over to them, hair damp, cheeks flushed. “Sorry... we’re ready to go now.”

Jon starts the engine and rolls off. Theon beside him still leans backwards to give their roommate a quick once-over before he clicks his tongue. “You had a girl up there last night?”

“What? No, I didn’t.” He doesn't even sound like he believes it himself. And to his confirmation, Jon peers at the mirror, seeing how Gendry's flush has deepened.

“Oh come on.” Robb bumps his shoulder. “Even I heard your bed squeak and I'm across the fucking hall.”

“So who is she?” Theon pushes. “One of the cheerleaders? I bet it’s Bessa. Gods know, this woman just can't be quieted.”

Robb snorts and shakes his head while Theon starts laughing and Gendry goes on protesting. “I was alone okay? There was no girl.”

“Tell that to your grandma,” Theon says, still grinning.

They continue with this until they reach the sports field. And even continue in the locker room, supported by their other teammates, so that Jon actually feels a tad sorry for him. But only a little, because he also doesn't believe a single word he says. He's the only one with a room downstairs, and even there he heard the damn squeaking. 

The banter goes on till they all have changed and are out on the lanes, running they’re rounds. It doesn't take long for the group to spread out; Theon and Patrek right at the front, Robb and Olyvar close behind. Jon could join, he's in good shape, but instead he drops back until Gendry jogs beside him. 

“I’m not telling you,” he pants, still frowning.

“I’m not asking.” Because the statement is enough to expose his previous lie. And unlike the others, Jon sees no reason to push him further.

They get along well, he wants to keep it at that. They both have a lot in common, are the new ones, more or less. Even if Jon has practiced with the team often, he hasn't played in a game, and Gendry is a freshman, a year younger than them, which makes them both kind of outsiders. They are both rather quiet, unlike Robb and Theon, who always have to be the center of attention. That's why Jon was happy when Gendry moved in a few weeks ago. He brings some balance to their group. 

So the fact that they both play for the same position remained unmentioned during the whole time. And remains that way until the inevitable moment arrives, the speech of the coach at the end of training.

But still there it doesn't come. They run their laps, they throw the ball, they do their lifting and then they gather and hear the plan for what's to come. The opening game in a month is against Sunspear, and everyone is fired up to get it on with the Snakes. Yet no mention of any positions in the squad. 

The tension rises and in the end Jon avoids Gendry's gaze, which carries the same uncertainty as his own. Taking his courage in his hands, he waits till the others have disappeared into the locker room and steps upt to the coach. “Sir?”

Mormont looks up from the ground and stops in his motion, the football that would have just gone back into the net remains in his hand. “Snow?”

“You have a second? Because… I was just wondering… you know Gendry and I played both Center in Highschool so I was thinking…” He knows he’s rambling. He should rip it off but somehow he can’t. 

A small smile plays around the lips of the old bear as he straightens up. “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that too. Thought I'd wait, let you guys arrive first, let the team come back together after the break.”

It takes all of his willpower not to crack his knuckles while holding his gaze, while more and more tension spreads. He just needs him to spit it out and then he can go back home, licking his wounds. 

“Lend me a hand with this, will you?” The coach says instead, pointing at the balls at their feet. So Jon bends down, helps him, waits on. Where unfortunately, it takes a while before Mormont picks up the conversation. “You also played in middle school right? Who was your coach there?”

“Rodrik Cassel, sir. All the way to the end of high school.”

The coach nods and pushes his chin forward. “He’s a good man, knows his craft.”

“Yes sir.” Jon has no clue where this is all going.

Until Mormont exhales deeply, straightens up, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I’ll let Waters play center, Jon.”

As much as he thought about it, he should have been prepared for this. But it’s still like a slap. His mouth drops open. “What? Why?”

“I've talked to Thorne about it, and we agree that Waters is the man for the job.”

 _Fuck._ He tries not to be mad at Gendry, because it's not his fault. Still, anger and jealousy spread like wildfire through his veins and Jon clenches his hands into fists, trying to keep his frustration in check. Robb will kill him when he finds out, they have always been on the field together, probably that's why it hit him so hard that he left him alone all last year. 

He wanted to make it up to him, prove to him that indeed nothing has changed. But as it seems, that's off the cards now.

“Are you taking me off the team?” he breaths, gets mentally ready for the next blow. 

Mormont shakes his head. “Don’t be silly, boy. I have other plans for you…" He hesitates and gives him another one of his analyzing glances. "I want you to play defense."

“What?!” Considering his current vocabulary, maybe he really is a testosterone-driven puffed-up deadhead. “Why?”

“You're smart, you're observant, don't think I didn't see you studying all the plays last year." The coach takes one step closer. "I give you an option with this, a chance to step out of your brother's shadow.” Then he grabs his shoulder. “I want you to play Middle Linebacker.”

Jon’s brows reach his hairline. “You must be kidding?" 

"I'm certainly not."

"But I always played offense?”

Mormont rolls his eyes. “This is an opportunity Jon, take it. You have good tactical thinking that can be used here.”

“But –”

“No buts. That's the choice, take it or leave it.” The coach gives him a quick once-over then grins slightly. “Though I have to admit, you need to put on some more muscle. Gods know how you didn't get knocked down every time before.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. “Can I think about it?”

“Sure,” Mormonts nods, ending the conversation as he picks up the net and turns to leave. “But don't wait too long.” 

He knows it's not a warning, more a nudge in a certain direction. Still, Jon stands still, watching him until he disappears into the locker room as well. Just then he's able to move again. Heading back to the parking lot, because he's not even remotely willing to meet the gaze of others, definitely not Gendry's and certainly not Robb's. He might as well shower at home. Now he has to do some thinking first.

Yet all he thinks is, _fuck_ … stupid fucking defense. That is so not at all how he planned to spend his upcoming year.

Still the coach's words linger in his head, _‘a chance to step out of your brother's shadow.’_ Though even if he hates to admit it, the more Jon thinks about it, the more it starts to make sense. Because maybe this really is the place he's been standing on all this time and maybe _this_ really is an opportunity. 

He just hopes the others put two and two together and take his stuff with them as he leans against the hood of his truck and sighs. 

A green Mini pulls up, parks right next to him, and with his face in his hands, he doesn't realize who's getting out until a moment later. Then his mood finally reaches its freezing point. _Fucking bloody perfect._

Like always his chest flutters at her side, like always it's followed by the burning feeling of annoyance right after. On instinct he racks his fingers through his hair, doing his best to hide its sweaty state and avoiding to show her any sign of discomfort.

“Hi,” Daenerys says, one hand on the roof of her car, grabbing the sole of her foot behind her back for stretching. 

“Hi.” Jon growls back, frowning at her. He should really look away, but she holds his gaze, so he does the same. It's hard not to let his posture slip as she stands there in her tight leggings, which do nothing to hide the curves of her body, her slim waist, her round butt. Things that felt so good beneath his hands, that are too hard to forget, even if he really _really_ wants to.

“What?” She switches her legs, eyes still set on Jon’s face. 

“Nothing,” he says, grateful he's not blushing despite his inappropriate thoughts.

Her silver ponytail wobbles as she shakes out her limbs, then shrugs out of her sweater and throws it on the backseat of her car, revealing a black sports bra, which makes it twice harder for Jon to keep his eyes on her face. Especially when she walks around, doing more stretching, not even looking at him when she asks her next question, “you’re part of the football team?” 

He exhales deeply. “Yeah... kinda.” 

He's still not sure what to make of Mormont's decision as she apparently does not know what to do with his statement. One perfectly shaped eyebrow is raised at him before she leans down, reaching for her left foot with her right hand. Her eyes flick back up at him, long lashes fluttering, waiting for him to give her some more explanation. 

But he holds back. Biting his cheek, hands pushed deep into the pockets of his shorts, Jon thinks it's best if he just gets into his car and stops having this conversation, stop talking to her at all. Because nothing good comes ever out of this, even if it looks like it does at first glance. In the end it only provokes a headache. 

Like she read his mind, Daenerys' mouth twitches. “Which position do you play?”

 _Center_ , he’s about to say, realizing immediately that that’s not right anymore. He closes his eyes, just briefly to not come across as creepy, which he may already be doing. The word is on his tongue and he leaves it there for a moment before letting it roll over his lips. “Linebacker,” he says then and of course her eyes widen in surprise.

She takes him in, watching him from top to bottom. “Are you serious?! Aren't you a bit… slim for that?”

 _He should really end this conversation_.

His jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, Jon fights the urge to snap back, because what the hell does she even know about it. He can contain it at the last second. Headache blooming, he presses his tongue against his teeth and just keeps looking at her, hoping she might be the first to turn away.

But of course he has no such luck.

“So... you definitely need some more muscles for that, don't you?” she goes on and then bits her lip as her eyes roam his body. She is even less subtle than he was, or tried to be, which unfortunately is enough for his breath to get caught. 

“Working on it,” he puffs out. 

The hint of a smirk is playing on her mouth. Standing this close, he’s able to see her eyes darken, the most incredible shade of violet, turning from the colour of a sunset into the depths of the sea. He knows that look, it's burned into his memory, so he doesn’t notice the voices of his teammates coming closer till she _finally_ turns her head and breaks the spell. 

Her smirk is gone as Daenerys gives him one last look, then spins on her heels and jogs away. Well knowing that Jon's watching her until she’s gone, before he reaches for the door handle and opens his car. 

Though maybe it’s her, or Mormont’s words, or a bit of both, but whatever it is, it has stirred something up inside him. Though maybe defiance is not the healthiest motivation, it's better than nothing. It's a start at least. 

Maybe, like always, he just takes what he gets.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *A redshirt is a player who does not participate in active play for one year in order to save one year of eligibility, which is limited to four seasons. Redshirts may practice with the team but may not participate in any game or competition.
> 
> More of what happened between Jon and Dany is revealed in Dany's next POV! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and/or Kudos are very much appreciated! :)


End file.
